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regardingseas · 3 years

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Ttile: Echoed Vexations (Part One, part two linked)

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Rating: Teen and up audiences (violence warning)

AO3: here! (Full story at once)

•••

Plot Summary:

It's all too easy to turn a blind eye to the past-- to believe that because someone has been shielded from harm's way, they should no longer fear the wrath of their opponent's creed. They're safe now, after all, so why would they..?

Yes, Scar and Cub are certainly "safe", but they're still haunted by memories of the Vex and their deals all the same.

An average afternoon during the HCB Base Swap is cut short when Mumbo accidentally digs up a remnant from Scar's Vex partnership days, and unfortunately for the town's mayor, the other Hermit is far from aware just how triggering the topic can truly be. Things only dissolve from there, and in the end, Grian lends a helping hand to console a friend.

•••

Additional Content Warnings:

Depictions of trauma disorders, panic attacks, flashbacks, paranoid thoughts/delusions, manipulation, gaslighting, threats, injury, and violence. Mentions of religious themes, unintentional self-harm, and non-permanent character death.

Do be careful, but otherwise, enjoy!

•••

The sun was still high in the sky even as Scar finished decorating the monument's support chains, sweltering rays beaming down and adding to the oppressive humidity of the jungle around him. With his usual jacket set aside to fight the heat, he wiped away the beads of sweat that had gathered on his forehead and grabbed a stray bucket from the sidelines. He'd nearly finished the waterfall aspect of the design-- crystal blue streams cascading over the edges of four white spanners, all joining together in the octagonal pool at the base's foundation. It was looking quite spectacular, if he were to say so himself, with the vine-coiled braces and additional water currents tying the otherwise juxtaposing themes together nicely.

Scar scooped up a fresh pail of water, filling it to the brim and hauling it towards the last pillar. He glanced down at the container as he carried it, catching a glimpse of his reflection from the liquid inside. His face shone red with effort, misplaced strands of hair having clung themselves to his tan skin.

Though unsurprised, he still couldn't help but laugh at the rippling image. "It's just my luck I'd swap with another jungle dwelling Hermit. I swear, I can never escape this climate for long. First the island last year, then all this."

With a shake of his head he returned his gaze upwards, continuing to muse aloud to the landscape before him, "You tropics are wonderful and all, but it sure would've been a nice change of pace to set up camp in somewhere like the mountains. Or pull total 180 and have landed in the tundras!"

Concepts for each design raced through his head, each idea fighting the others for dominance and tacking details onto itself, trying to land its place on the metaphorical pedestal of his imagination. A cottage with medieval influences? No, that would be far too typical, amp both of those components up. An entire village with a steampunk driven aesthetic, built into the mountainscape itself; no doubt with custom terraforming to integrate the buildings into the natural environment. That was more like it.

Scar could envision working windmills and waterwheels accompanying purposefully makeshift farmlands, historic blimps having reclaimed skies where they'd soar high overhead. Below them, eye-catching pops of colour, shining through as floating lanterns that hover above connective rope bridges.

As for the arctic concept? Something more grand would be ideal. In his fantasy, he'd created an absolute oxymoron of the words cabin and mansion jumbled together, and he adored it that way. A bottom floor made of bricked stone, the top made of logs and large windows to oversee the view. Accompanying them in the same manner would be a balcony, propped on columns that hugged the building and curved around its corners. The top deck would be open for clear days, and the space below it safe on harsher ones. Sloped roofs would be adorned with chimneys, and the interior warmed by cozy flames that were kept organized with inviting lofts. The living area could be split leveled, sinking down to create its own margin where guests could comfortably gather by the fireplace and--

There was a tug at his ankle, and next thing he knew, a bemused Scar went crashing to the ground, having been too caught up to notice the trailing plants blocking his footway. His hands shot out to catch himself, palms scraping against the concrete floor in a way similar to the childhood stunt of crashing and burning on the pavement. A stinging snapped up his arms, and the water bucket dropped from his grasp, clattering down with a metallic rumble before spilling its contents across the floor.

Scar pushed himself upright with a hiss of air through his teeth, shaking off his grazed palms and wiping them on his jeans. Pulling his foot free from the greenery and gathering himself up was no problem, what was a problem, however, was the troubling sight now before him.

The water had spilled all over one of Mumbo's redstone contraptions, causing the device to short circuit and emit a sort of maroon-grey smoke. The wires fashioned from the compacted dust had been all but washed away, any remaining pieces hanging on by threads and failing miserably whenever a signal attempted to fire; more so sizzling rather than surging alight with energy.

"Oh, crud!" he shouted, racing towards the machine and yanking on the shut-off switch to divert any further input from the broken setup.

It powered down, but Scar was still left swatting the coloured smoke from his face, coughing as the scent of burnt metallics filled his nostrils. When had he gotten so absorbed in possible building opportunities that he'd managed to miss the foliage in front of him? Why had he even been wondering so deeply about it, anyway? This event was about improving one another's bases by adding their own personal touches, not starting a new project entirely.

Scar sighed, he wasn't sure why his mind had begun drifting so far. He'd like to blame it on the wild imagination of a builder, but he had a feeling there was a little more to it. Sometimes, when the world wasn't too much to handle, it was too easy to let fall away. Maybe he spent too much time daydreaming-- he was sure there was a word for that, when trances became so all encompassing, so engrossing.

"But I don't have time to think about that right now," he reminded himself, "I really need to fix this. It doesn't look like most of this redstone is salvageable, I'll have to get new supplies to repair it. Maybe some of the circuits are okay..?"

Scar nudged a repeater with his shoe, the device making an unnatural sloshing noise in his attempt to change the feed-in. He scrunched up his nose, "Okay, nope, gonna need to replace that, too."

Running a hand through his hair in defeat, he glanced towards Mumbo's storage system before shaking his head. It wouldn't be right to use the other man's supplies without asking, let alone waste them on a mistake made due to Scar's own carelessness. He'd have to make his way back to his original base and gather the materials from there once more. When he dropped by initially, he figured he'd gotten everything he needed, but apparently hadn't accounted for dissociation-induced redstone mishaps.

"I guess we're making a trip back," Scar announced to no one, finally picking up the empty bucket to set it safely aside. He made his way over to his tent, temporarily discarding any excess materials and bidding adieu to Jellie before grabbing his elytra and setting off.

Taking to the skies, Scar squinted against the wind as it roared in his ears. His hair parted itself from where it had stuck, short locks brushed back by the flowing breeze. With arms extended for balance, and maybe a dash of amusement, he lit his rockets and propelled himself into the distance.

-----

It wasn't long before he encroached on his base again, allowing his faux wings to glide him downward where he kicked out his legs to come to a soft landing. Scar stopped before the massive drill site just on the outskirts of the forest, heading towards the agglomeration of crates and boxes he had haphazardly stowed aside. He was certain there had to be the necessary hardware in one of the many containers, though which that may be was lost on him. At least, thanks to Mumbo and his new storage system, the chest monster he'd created would soon be a thing of the past.

"I wonder how that's going for him..." Scar pondered, striding over to a random shulker and beginning his sure-to-be protracted search.

"Scar?" a familiar voice interrupted, making him peer ahead to see the moustached man himself rounding the corner. "Hello there! I see you've made yourself rather at home at my base," Mumbo teased.

He couldn't help but chuckle, "That I have. I just needed to stop by and pick up some redstone and iron. With all the ore this place has quarried up, I was sure there's bound to be more of that here than back at Larry."

Mumbo faked surprise with a hearty grin, "Getting into mechanics, are we? Have the inner workings of the temple really had that much influence on you after only a few days?"

"Now I wouldn't say that," Scar shook his head and closed the lid of the grey shulker, seeing no point in hiding the truth. "I took a tumble holding a bucket of water and it kinda spilled on one of the contraptions. I'm sorry for the trouble-- but don't worry! I came here to fix it right up. I just didn't wanna waste your materials fixing my silly error."

The suited man waved his hand dismissively, "Nonsense, it's no trouble. Have you seen the improvements you've made to that place? I mean, of course you've seen them, you built them, but rhetorically speaking--" Mumbo cleared his throat, "Just don't fret over it, I trust that you'll have it fixed right up in no time."

Scar smiled, "Thanks, dude. Now I just have to find where on Earth I put those ore…"

Mumbo gave another laugh, "You know, you can feel free to use some of my things if need be. I have no idea how you expect to find anything in this mess. I'm only trying to do a basic look through so I know where to begin when it comes to the item sorter, but even that doesn't seem to do much good. I swear, it's like trying to play a very intense game of memory, with thousands of nonsensical cards all scattered about."

Scar snickered sheepishly at the comparison, "Yeah, no kidding. But being able to use some resources without flying all the way over here would be great. Thanks again, Mumbo. I don't know if there's anything you'll need here while working, but hey, consider it free range. We're doing these things for each other in the long run, anyway."

"I'd say, 'unless we don't switch back our deeds', but in all honesty? I'm beginning to miss the ol' living monument already."

The two exchange a chuckle before returning to their previous tasks, both going back to digging through the pile of chests in preparation for their projects.

It took longer than Scar wanted to admit to finally find the crate stocked with valuables-- sighing in relief at the sight and immediately beginning to pile the items into his inventory. There were pre-smelted metals from an iron farm, so he didn't have to bother with the ore, and the redstone he'd gathered was already in dust from, meaning all he'd have to do was craft the items after returning.

"I wonder if it would've been easier to stop by the shopping district and buy these directly, instead of making them by hand..." he said, "Oh well, saves on diamonds, and these had to be used some time, I guess."

"Talking to yourself over there?" Mumbo asked.

"Just thinking aloud is all."

"I see," the moustached man nodded, pushing himself up from where he'd been examining the supplies. "I found something neat from last year! Do you wanna see?"

"Sure!" Scar agreed, setting aside his intent of flying back in favour of seeing what it was Mumbo had to show him.

He smiled and stepped over to Scar, holding out a faded piece of paper for them both to see, "I found it stuck to the bottom of a shulker box! Can you believe we used to be competition so recently?" He joked.

Scar could only stare at the advert before him, a steele blue page embellished with a vault-like ring in the center. It meant nothing to the untrained eye, but to him, all of the company's horrors were sealed underneath. ConCorp read bold text in half-connected lettering, the logo finalizing its signature with a black bow tie adorning the bottom.

"Hardly," managed Scar, having just remembered he'd been asked a question, "But it wasn't that recent."

"It was practically yesterday if we're talking business," Mumbo snickered, "but we aren't. I'm not very good at business."

"Me neither, I prefer mayorship," he said in an attempt to change the subject.

Mumbo, however, didn't seem to notice, only turning to stare at Scar with eyes wide. "Are you kidding me? You were quite literally the richest Hermit of all last year! You're wonderful at business. Sahara was amazing, and I don't for a second doubt it was the most ambitious project of our group to date, but she had plenty of bugs, being the machine powered industry that she was. ConCorp, however? That was an utter monopoly! The thing lasted two bloody seasons!"

Scar chuckled awkwardly, "I know, I know, Cub and I worked very hard. But it wasn't all us, we couldn't have done it alone."

"Give yourself more credit," Mumbo insisted, "I'm more than convinced you could have gotten your business up and running even without the help of your Vex friends. Weren't they less prominent in your company last year, anyway? You did change your guy's name from ConVex to ConCorp, after all. I think that would imply less input on their part."

"Not really," he explained, though the tension building in his body was becoming harder to conceal. He had to keep his arms rigid so that they wouldn't shake, forcing in deep breaths to avoid the shaky ones that threatened to take their place. "We just thought it would be better for business, rebranding to something more gentlemanly and all."

Mumbo nodded, "Ah, that makes sense. Though I still don't understand how you managed to work with them to begin with. I likely wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes. I mean business partners with the Vex? Friends, even? How'd you do it? Not to mention why? With all due respect, what makes one seek that out?"

Scar blinked hard at the influx of questions, "Oh, it's- it's really complicated, you might not understand. Cub started it, though. I joined the team not long after, but I wasn't there when he first struck the deal with Them."

"Huh, some deal," Mumbo remarked thoughtfully, and Scar nodded.

He had no idea.

"So what made you leave that behind?" Mumbo continued.

"What?" he asked, finding his thoughts hazy. They were static nothingness, but somehow also crashing into his skull. He found himself having to dig his way through them, while at the same time trying to bury them once he passed. The last thing Scar wanted was to do was hark back to the Vex, to beckon forth Their memory with his own.

The other man simply chuckled, oblivious to Scar's inner turmoil. "ConCorp, the Vex. Did you two just get bored? Having done the same thing for too long?"

"In a sense, you could definitely say we were tired of it. It just- well, it wasn't what we wanted to do anymore. We wanted to move on to new things."

"That's fair enough. Do you blokes still get along? Or did they take the corporation's end like a sour breakup?"

This time, Scar couldn't contain his wince. "We're still friends!" he insisted, "Of course the Vex are my friends."

Mumbo finally quirked a brow, "Are you sure about that? You don't have to worry about hiding some burnt corporal bridges from me, I'm not here to judge."

"Oh yeah, I'm positive," he nodded eagerly, "I'm just- I'm gonna go work on fixing that contraption I damaged, best to get it fixed before we have to switch back."

"Buddy, are you sure everything's alright? I'm sorry if I upset you or anything."

"Nah, I'm just peachy!" Scar announced with far too much false enthusiasm, internally cringing at his failed masking abilities. Not allowing any more time for his ruse to be cracked, he uttered a quick goodbye before adjusting the straps on his elytra and dashing off, leaping into the air and back towards the ruins.

"Scar, wait!" Mumbo tried, but he was already gone.

------

The returning flight was far from the peaceful journey he'd made to the excitation site. His artificial wings beat frantically, struggling to keep up as he charged forward with excessive firepower. He paid no mind to the safety protocol regarding the rocket's cool-down period, simply heralding through the air as fast as his elytra would carry him. Scar arrived back to the monument in a trip overall much faster than when he'd left, but it seemed to drag on for an eternity. The entire excursion consisted of a battle with his own mind-- a war in which he knew he was bound to lose, but he had to hold down the fort until he was on solid ground.

Scar was lucky not to crash into the debris upon landing, frantically stumbling to the dirt and having to grasp onto a piece of wreckage to maintain his balance. His legs nearly buckled under his weight, form trembling in spite of the deep breaths he gave it his all to draw in.

He grasped hard to the rubble, trying to anchor his brain into focus. He couldn't let his thoughts spiral, he couldn't think about Them. He knew grounding techniques, and he tried to rush his way through them.

Five things you can see.

He could see the golden heart, plants, stone, the golden heart again-- the thing was too anatomically correct, he'd seen horrors too similar to it before. And the sound, it was too damn loud, too hard to ignore. Its unsteady rhythm hammering in his ears alongside his own faltering pulse.

Forget visuals, four different noises?

Scar squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to listen, focusing hard on the world around him. Still, he could only hear the heart. He could only hear it pounding, its once melodic notes like nails on a chalkboard. He could remember far too many times when he was left alone with nothing but his heartbeat and his pleas.

Tactile. Texture. What can you feel? Three things you can feel.

Internally, he screamed at his dulling senses to return. God, he didn't want to think about Them, it wasn't worth the risk. They'd been inside his head before, and the mere idea of having his thoughts broadcasted again made his stomach churn. Scar tried harder and harder to suppress the images bubbling to the surface, festering like maggots in an old wound. The more he tried to push them down, however, the fiercer they'd rise back up, and he choked down a sob in attempt to list the sensations he could currently identify.

He could feel the stone-- but he already said the stone, didn't he? He could also feel the sun. It was hot against his back. So hot. He was overheating.

The notes should have been a success, but the drops of sweat felt too akin to tricking blood. The sting of his hands felt too much like the friction burn of a rope. It felt too much like he was back with the Vex again, and as he finally sunk to the soil, he could no longer swim against the onslaught of memories crashing over him like a tidal wave.

They could still hear him, They could still hear him, They could still hear him, They could still get him--

------

The day he and Cub first found the courage to try and cut ties with the Vex had been a hellish one, and the two men weren't even successful in their attempt. Hence, of course, it being the first.

Still, it had taken ages for Scar to persuade Cub that it was even worth trying, the other man having believed it was impossible to sneak anything past the Vex on their own. Scar was persistent, however, and eventually convinced his friend they had a shot if they played their cards right, if they made the right proposal without their intentions being discovered.

They'd constructed their plans in secret for weeks; discussing them only inside of untold locations with hushed whispers, or in the form of coded scrawls they'd burn immediately after reading. They couldn't be too careful, that's what they'd tell themselves whenever they worried their precautionary measures may be over the top. Even so, when a so-called conference was put on the schedule --such events were far from any type of cordial meeting, despite having been assigned the title of one-- the men were hardly prepared for it.

Their conference room consisted of a needlessly grandiose suite, with floors of marble and walls carved from deep umber wood. The polished lumber was adorned with expensive paintings in aureate frames; antique laden shelves taking up the spaces they did not. Aesthetically pleasing decorative tactics were discarded in favour of showing off their riches in a possessive cluster, with the only average items being the table and its chairs sat in the dead center of the area. A chandelier of gemstone and gold swung from above, dangling by the same chains fated to one day bind their vassals.

"Concordats, greetings!" A Vex declared as the men were led through the doorway, hovering in the air at the opposing end of the surface.

"Greetings," parroted Cub minimally, Scar giving a plain nod beside him. Fewer words meant less chance at letting their guard down.

"We've been needing to speak with you," a different Vex chimed.

"Speak with you about the business," yet another visitant confirmed.

"We actually need to discuss similar matters with you all," Scar noted, voice and expression a façade of tranquility.

"You do?" the first asked, wide smile replaced with inquiry.

"Yes," managed Cub, "we want to make you an offer, one you can't refuse."

"I do like the sound of that!" the second snickered.

"We'll hear your offer," the Vex grinned, "we only have one question first!"

"Of course, what is it?" asked Scar, in mental awe of how well their exchange was going.

"Do you recognize these?" it asked, gesturing towards the white table where a blue light flashed, fading away to reveal a small pile of ash.

Cub and Scar glanced to one another in evident confusion, the latter of the two speaking once again, "Forgive me, but we're not sure what you're talking about."

"Oh, silly me!" the Vex giggled, another flash of luminesce encompassing the soot and leaving a stack of papers in its place. As if caught in a controlled gust, they blew from the surface and organized themselves midair; levitating in a cloud of magic.

All of their once burnt notes were lined up before them, cyphers needed to crack their messages included.

Still beaming with innocence, it continued, "How about now? Look familiar?"

The blood drained from their faces, and Scar could have sworn his heart was going to burst from his chest with how hard it was drumming. He wanted to wake up, because this had to be a nightmare.

"No, we have no idea what those are," he tried.

LAIR!

Overlapping voices screamed in his head, all sounding in haunting unison. Scar hastily clapped his hands over his ears, but it did nothing to silence the uproar emanating from within.

You try to break our contract then lie to our faces?

Foolish concordats.

Terrible secret keepers, terrible subjects.

Cub seized hold of Scar's arm and made a break for the door with the brunet in tow, reaching the exit and tugging desperately on the handles. They refused to turn under his grasp, and his eyes darted back towards the Vex; floating creatures growing ever closer to their imaginary bubble providing them with the illusion of safety.

More of Them were phasing in through walls, forms non-corporeal and having no need for the sealed entryway.

Apologize.

They all ordered, Scar flinching at the simultaneous projection. He lowered his hands and turned towards Them, watching Their unmoving grins with wide eyes.

Kneel before your gods and divulge your prayers, we may just show you mercy.

"I'm sorry-" Scar whimpered, but Cub was having none of it.

"No!" the man barked, "Screw this! This isn't worth it! None of this is worth it! He's right! The business, the money, the power, it-- it means nothing! Not when you treat us like this!"

They watched him step forward, his furious yells echoing through the expanse of the room, "We're done! And we mean it! You're going to get us go or else!"

An orchestra of shrill cackles filled the air.

Oooh, it's angry.

They're fighting back!

Teach them a lesson.

"You won't dare make another-" Cub's retaliation was cut short with a cry, the bearded man dropping to the ground in a swift crash.

"Cub!" Scar called, but his attempt to step towards his friend was met only with a searing pain through his legs and the subsequent buckling of his knees. He fell to the marble, limbs heavy as if they'd been weighted. It took considerable force to balance on his arms, appendages left shaking as he peered back up towards the Vex.

He regretted it instantly.

•••

(Part two)

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fanfic #goodtimeswithscar #grian #mumbo jumbo #mcyt #the vex #cubfan135

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coeurdastronaute · 4 years

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Atlantis 5

Previously on Atlantis

Three days. That was all she would get of Atlantis. It was more than most other people would ever imagine, more than anyone else had ever had and more than likely would ever be granted. The marvels of the deep sea, of the timeless, effervescent city, with its magic and ancient sciences was to remain a mystery for the entire world for as long as anyone could dare to count.

But Clarke knew, now.

She saw the hanging gardens and tasted the food, she felt the healing powers of the knotted hands of time itself rubbing ointments with imprecise smells etching into her skin. She’d seen the daughter of the king, she’d dined with the queen, she’d heard the language and she stood at a window the size of a blimp, and looked out at the expanse of the sea-floor with her own eyes, and that was a lot of knowledge, and a lot of magic, if she was bold enough to say such a thing despite the science of her mind telling her such notions were ridiculous.

She hadn’t thought that three days could change the entire world, but it did. Her mentors were dead, her life was in flux, and she was now esteemed with the knowledge of Atlantis, in all of its perfection and wonder.

Three days ago, Clarke was studying a drug-resistant strain of a very bad disease on a medical research ship in the middle of the ocean. Three days ago, she woke up in Atlantis, but more importantly, three days ago, she woke up to Lexa. That might be the most defining part of the entire time she spent underwater-- Lexa. All six feet of her. All broad shoulders and long legs and crisp jawline and freckles splattered across her nose and cheeks, all green eyes and plump lips and strong hands and that cut in her arm at her bicep and the--

From her spot on the bed, Clarke shook her head and rubbed her eyes, willing those images to disappear as she rubbed her eyes. None of it mattered. She would be back to real life soon enough, though as she thought about everything, she realized how far away it seemed.

Clarke sat on her bed and braced herself. What should have taken a few weeks to heal was completely back to normal, her body moving normally again. She placed her palm over her previously bruised ribs and held it, as if she could feel the process. But all that was there was a breath and then another.

The smell still lingered there, the mint and the camomile and something indescribably wonderful. It always close to her, the way the air was different. Clarke did her best to not think about Lexa, and the sandalwood musk of her when she moved.

The clothes she came with were torn and bloody, but Clarke slipped on the ones Lexa left for her to wear, putting aside the soft linen of the Atlantean fabric.

“Good morning, Clarke.”

She balked slightly at the door to discover a princess waiting, hand raised as if prepared to knock. Unruffled, Lexa slowly lowered her fist and tucked it behind her back with her other hand, proper and stoic as all.

“Come to collect me and return me to the real world?”

Lexa furrowed and cocked her head slightly as she thought over the words.

“This is still the real world.”

“This is a dream,” Clarke corrected with a sigh. “A dream I have to wake up from eventually.”

“Is it really so bad to return to your home?”

It took genuine thought to figure out how bad it was going to be to return. Clarke thought of her family and how worried they’d be and the secret she’d have to keep. And she thought about returning to school and work without the people she’d come to love and trust and respect-- her mentor gone, her work gone, her life irrevocably altered and weirdly enough, this palace with this Atlantean, it felt the most normal.

“No,” she smiled weakly. “It’ll be nice.”

Lexa didn’t believe the answer, but she closed her mouth after thinking it better not to press when she saw the sadness in Clarke’s shoulders and the weight on her brow. Instead she offered a knowing smile, quick and fleeting in return, dreading this day as much for different reasons.

Instead, Lexa held out her elbow, as she was known to do to help Clarke move when she was injured and they walked through the palace and gardens over the past week, and even though the patient was healed, she took it graciously, her smile more genuine.

“I have news after speaking with my mother and father.”

“You’ve decided to keep me prisoner?”

“That would be an interesting turn of events,” she chuckled. “One that I’m sure a few people here would be okay with.”

“I bet.”

“I’ve been allowed to visit land.”

“Really?” Clarke perked, suddenly aware that she was actually interested in things like Lexa’s plans and whereabouts and accessibility. “I mean. That’s great. That’s what you wanted, right?”

“It is. I know I’ll be called to be someone who helps, and I know I have these gifts. I want to see who I am outside of the comforts of my home.”

“You’re going to be great.”

“Oh? How are you so sure?” Lexa teased, the tips of her ears burning red with the declaration.

Before Clarke could answer, a group of guards ran toward her, hurrying and urgent. Clarke gripped her bicep tightly and waited.

“There has been an attack on the Eastern front. The machines have been destroyed.”

“Did they cross the armistice line?”

“No. It looks like they were doing more than just research though.”

“Drilling?”

The guard nodded and Lexa grit her teeth, contemplating many thoughts.

Thought she wasn’t sure what they were saying, Clarke could recognize the urgency, and she felt Lexa’s energy, picking up on some of her tells, though she wasn’t sure she ever saw that kind of anger on her face as the guard kept speaking. Jaw clenched and eyes on fire, her body tensed.

Her arm dropped and Lexa took the tablet looking item and watched a video or pictures or surveillance of some kind before pushing it back at the guard, disgust apparent beneath the wrath.

But she remembered herself after a moment and looked to Clarke, softening only slightly in the eyes.

“You have to go,” Clarke realized.

“They are going to take you to my mother and the rest of the party going to the Spindrift. I was supposed--” she cleared her throat and waited until her guards took the hint to step back and turn around. “I was going to join, but it seems my father and I have something to take care of.”

“I understand.”

“I would-- I thought i’d have more--” Lexa anxiously scratched the back of her neck and swallowed, her cheeks burning as well, her body losing that fierceness suddenly as she stammered. “I didn’t think we’d have to say goodbye like this.”

“Hoping for something a little more romantic?”

“Hoping to not have to do it at all, honestly.”

Both shared a smile at the thought, comforted by it for just an instant.

“You have work to do, Princess.”

“I do.”

“Find me. I think I promised to show you around.”

“I will. You’ll be close?”

“I will.”

Lexa sighed and smiled, her body aching to reach out and do something, but failing entirely with it and the urge, so she wrung her hands behind her back and nodded curtly.

“This might take me a while.”

“I’m a patient person,” Clarke promised.

With another nod, Lexa looked at Clarke, meeting her eyes and holding it for as long as she could stand before turning away.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Passed from person to person, unaware of what was happening, Clarke found herself sitting on a vessel of some sort, waiting and left to the quiet. For what felt like the first time since Lexa disappeared, she took a breath. There was no one around her, and there was no where to go but back, something she’d actively avoided thinking about for days.

But before she could give it much thought, the vessel filled with bodies, and the Queen took her seat after the crew began the process of taking off. About to travel through miles of deep sea that no human had ever seen before, Clarke gulped, oddly claustrophobic.

“It’ll be a quick trip, Clarke,” the Queen assured her as she took her seat. “Maybe an hour and you’ll be back home.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sure your mother and father will be happy to see you.”

“I can’t imagine what they’ve been going through.”

The guilt hit her then and she pushed aside her selfish thoughts about the ease of staying and elected to take up the burden of returning.

“I have an idea.”

“It must be hard to have your husband and daughter out there sometimes.”

“You never get used to that,” she confessed with a sad smile. “But we are women and we have our role to play. Unlike some, we don’t ignore our duty to have feelings.”

“It’d be nice though, wouldn’t it?”

She thought about it for a moment and nodded before patting Clarke’s knee and taking a deep breath.

XXXXXXXXXX

The Spindrift was a magnificent achievement, perched on the edge of the sea, removed from closest city by miles, a beautiful building that seemed to raise out of the ocean itself. It was large, giant windows, the skeleton bending and wavy, it caught the light of the sun and shone magnificently, and with what Clarke knew of Atlantis, she understood how much of it was similar to their home. The embassy was the closest thing to a connection they would have, and the long bridge of a road that connected it tenuously seemed apt.

Inside was even more beautiful if that was possible. The care and time spent creating it was obvious to everyone who stepped inside and gawked at it. This was the political event of the decade, hell, even the century.

“This is Agent Barnes,” the Queen brought Clarke back from her reverie. “She is a friend of my husbands, and one of only a few that I trust to handle such a sensitive case as yours.”

The agent was short, but severe, decked out in a government issue suit and the only other non-Atlantean. She didn’t say anything, but rather sized up the shipwrecked girl, appraising her quickly enough.

“Thank you, for everything,” Clarke offered as an awkward quiet fell between them. “I have no intention of betraying your generosity.”

“Of course not,” Meera nodded curtly, and Clarke saw her daughter instantly. “You are a smart girl, Clarke. I know you will make wise decisions.”

With a final nod, Clarke bowed as she’d seen the guards do, hopeful that it woul translate to some kind of honor and gratitude. The queen held out her hand as Clarke righted herself, an offering to leave with a handshake.

“I’m sure our paths will cross again,” the queen offered.

“I’d be honored.”

With a friendly smile, the leader of the country turned and left with no fanfare at all, while the agent still didn’t say another word, but rather led Clarke toward her car and away from the waves.

XXXXXXXXXX

The helmet crashed against the wall with a clamor that echoed through the empty wing of the palace. The silence after was just as violent, but not for too long. Books and papers thudded and scattered as they were shoved off of a desk in the rage that swelled.

“You forgot this,” a voice accompanied hands that held out a helmet, followed by a shield.

Lexa grit her teeth and threw them anyway, even though her father was mocking her, amused by her display, able to live through her anger instead of unleashing his own. Someone had to remain stoic, and this time it wasn’t going to be her. Doubled over and bracing herself on the desk, the princess tried to catch her breath, unsure of herself and unsure of what was going to come next; angry at everything, bitter about fate and life and time and all of it happening at the worst time.

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?” Aquaman asked absently as he walked toward the window in the study in search of something to drink that would have a bite. He searched the decanters for something suitable while his daughter seethed.

“Forgive, forget, punish, convict, stick to it?”

“It’s not easy.”

“Everytime I think I’ve got something figured out, like I’m making progress, like I can somewhat fathom what my future might hold, it gets completely turned around.”

It was honest and earned a chuckle from the wide shoulders that now poured two drinks before turning back to her. He was amused by her failure, one that she took very personally, as she was known to do. No one was more serious than his daughter. There might have been too much of Meera in her, though his wife would disagree and attribute the stubbornness and penchant for self-flagellation as his own.

“You can’t control the actions of others, as nice as that might be,” Arthor sighed and handed his daughter a glass. “Your cousin has strong convictions.”

“That you’ve spent a lifetime trying to eliminate through peace and alliances with the Land.”

“I can’t say that I wouldn’t feel the same as Roan if I weren’t from there,” he acknowledged. “I think about it often. What would I care about the land at all if I’d grown up with my mother? I wouldn’t have any ties. But I try not to think about it too hard because that’s not our reality.”

Lexa hissed after downing her glass and slumping onto the plush sofa. The sea outside glowed slightly and fell into darkness and unknown, a smother, homey feeling to her.

Tall, broad, a mountain of a man, her father joined her, bringing the bottle and setting it between them after refilling her glass. She had his uncontrollable hair and pointy chin. She had his eyes and his brute force. She had his power-- the power of their blood, shared and royal and mythic. She had his heart, big and open and buried beneath a fortress.

“But I am the King of Atlantis, and not the Land. My duty-- our duty-- is to our people before all else. I believe in a peace with them to preserve our way of life. I won’t have a war because of pollution and poaching.”

“Why doesn’t he understand that it’s for the best? We can’t exterminate them or anyone who uses the water.”

“Because Roan is… he lacks vision. He loves a fight. He believes power comes from force, but it comes from--”

“Those who give it.”

“And a mythical, ancient bloodline and trident,” he smiled, eyes crinkling at the side, oddly at ease to be back at home despite a long battle above the coastline.

Lexa rolled her eyes and sighed again as she held the glass up to her lips and paused before closing her eyes and downing another. For an instant she thought about Clarke, now leagues away and lost to time, time she wouldn’t get back, time she wasn’t sure she’d be granted on land in light of the days events and the attack her cousin led against those ships.

“I should have paid attention. I was distracted. I should have known, or locked him up, or been--”

“You couldn’t have known he’d step out of line when he’d always toed it before. He may be a lot of things, but Roan was never one for complete treason.”

“Isn’t toeing that line the same thing?”

“That’s the most democratic thing we can allow to happen.”

“I should have known,” she whispered again, shaking her head.

“How could you? You were distracted rescuing damsels from wrecks.”

Knowingly, he grinned and looked at his daughter as she furrowed, blushed, and found the empty glass in her hand more interesting than meeting his eye as he teased.

“A moment of weakness.”

“Holding human life as precious is not weak. The ability to take it without understanding the weight of it, that is weakness. That’s a deficiency of the-- of the--”

“Heart.”

Aquaman smiled as his wife entered and found the right word, as she was always known to do for him. He watched her peruse the damage his daughter caused, the mess she’d made, the sag in her shoulder. Their language was innate, communicating it all without a word.

“I heard about what Roan did. He’s still at large?”

“Anya and the fleet are scouring the sea floor as we speak,” Lexa offered. “How was the Embassy?”

“We are ready for the commencement, now that the Justice League have finished saving the planet again and can be there as an act of good faith.”

“Most of them,” Arthur muttered, earning a glare.

“We’ll find Roan,” Meera promised, sitting beside her daughter. “But regardless, you must prepare for your time on land.”

“I’m still… but there’s-- I should--”

“I think we can handle running the country in your absence, your liege,” her father teased. “If your grace so desires.”

“I should deal with him.”

“I will enact his punishment. You will spend time with your grandfather, learning everything you can, preparing for your place as member of the League.”

“I have to prepare to lead our people.”

“The crown is two-fold now, Lexa,” Arthur shook his head. “Protecting our people means protecting our planet which means working with that dick in a bat suit.”

“The timing--”

“Is perfect. Your father is home now, and the leader of the opposition is on the run. It should be quiet and productive here again.”

“And I hear the best damsels are on land,” her father teased again, earning a scowl from his daughter and a warning look from his wife. “Barnes told me she was a real-- Ouch!”

The pillow flew across the coffee table and made him laugh as his wife shook her head.

“Clarke was an act of good will between nations. I would expect the same treatment of any one of my injured people if they washed ashore.”

“I hear you showed her the gardens.”

“It was that, or keep her locked up for a week, which hardly seemed fair,” Lexa defended herself.

“You’re going to see her, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“We’re certainly not going to let Roan get in the way of your growth and training and potential damsel.”

Another pillow pelted him in the face, followed quickly by another, then another, then another before he pushed back against the assault, lifting the women of his life so they couldn’t attack him anymore. He was home and they were all safe, and he needed it.

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ick25 · 6 years

Text

Rockman.EXE Episode 46 Review.

In Battle Network universe, curry takes YOU out!

Are you gonna explain how Regal gets Dr. Wily’s robot eye gene or something?

We begin the episode with one of my least favorite characters in this season demanding curry at the restaurant of my least favorite group of villaines. Count Elec is working while complaining about Rush and wondering if the WWW will ever come back. Suddenly, his PET starts to emit a sound with a bright red screen, and we see that the rest of the WWW members also have the same problem.

They are all gathered at the Maha ichiban, with Rush still waiting for his dang curry, trying to figure out what is going on. The PETs then slowly reveal an image of Dr. Wily.

Are we forgeting already that Madoi has sleeves?

After the title card we see that all PETs are connected to a tv where they find out that it is a video recording of Dr.Wily’s will. Wily tells them about a special chip where he engraved his intellect and where to find it.

All of this as the monitor shows the mod code for HP+250 for some reason.

After hearing this the WWW members are amazed and glad that they will finally return, but a certain dog hears them and escapes to alert our heroes.

Another way to make this character useful. I honestly don’t know why they don’t even question Rush, like they already know who he is and what he can do.

We cut to Netto who is happily skating while singing Aki’s cheezy song (very badly BTW) until he is surprised by Rush who suddenly appears in his way. Rush seems to be trying to tell him something, but Netto simple can’t understand him.

Why? She speaks bitch? XD (It’s not a bad word if I’m not using it as an insult)

In the next scene we see the Ex-WWW stealing a helicopter from a local airport by drowning the employees in curry. I also want to point out that Madoi and Count Elec are wearing those weird looking hats from when they were hand gliding in episode 31.

Custom hats for their hair styles?

Madoi reminds them that Gauss might also be interested in finding Wily’s brain chip, before we see him at his company with the family picture we saw in episode 30.

Meanwhile, in Yaito’s secret tree house base, Roll somehow translates what Rush said about the Wily chip, (ignore the weird spacing in the second panel) and for some reason they all think it’s THEIR job to stop them.

Rush demonstrates once again that he can cross between worlds to show them the map to the chip, and right after this, Yaito calls them from a entirely different art style and background just so we can get Yaito’s animation of getting into her private jet Batman style.

It just looks so weird going back and forth between art styles like that. Even the shading is different!

They find the island with no signs of the Ex-WWW anywhere, until Rockman totally jinx it because it turns out they were waiting for them to fly and shoot at them!

Rockman in forth panel: “I hate to be right all the time”

It’s been a while since the WWW tried to MURDER Netto! They literally shoot at them because they knew Netto and Rockman were there!

After blasting them out of the sky, the WWW land on the island were they find a waterfall that, of course, has a jack-in point next to it. This means the waterfall is fake because it dries up once they plug-in to reveal the chip.

Just plug-in, play Wily’s video and no more waterfall. Before they can take the chip though, one of Yaito’s drill cars bursts out of the ground. Yaito, Dekao and Tohru attempt to runaway with the chip only for the drill to stop working leaving them stuck there. Meanwhile, Netto is driving underground in a second drill car.

“Girl please, who’s the main character here? I can find the plot with my eyes closed.”

The loser squad try to defend the chip, in a very poorly way because Mahajarama ends up picking it up easily after Madoi drops it. Hinouken celebrates, but they are all interrupted by a blimp from Gauss that suddenly arrives before cutting to commercials.

We return from commercials with Gauss blasting the WWW helicopter with a laser from his airship.

Yeap, that happend.

Gauss reveals himself and immediately proceeds to insult Madoi.

I like how the camera switches to Madoi dissapearing and then going back to Gauss getting slapped by her. This is officially the second time Madoi slaps him.

Gauss reveals that he is interested in collecting Wily’s chip for his fan girl collection before Netto and Meiru finally burst out of the ground behind the blimp. Gauss then reveals a vital piece of information to eveyone.

Whaaaaa... I’m just kidding, we already knew that.

Turns out Gauss changed the family name to Magnets after their mother died and considers the Count a failure. He offers to take him back on his blimp in return for him handing over the Wily chip. The Count accepts shocking everyone, except for Mahajarama who has fate in him.

Then Meiru comes running at Yaito and the others telling them that Netto is on that ship too.

“Main character!”

Inside the airship, the Count refuses to hand over the chip and challenges Gauss to a Net Battle, but not just any Netbattle, one with the same rules used in his battle against Rockman back in episode 30.

Were the subs done by the same guys from episode 38? WHAT THE HECK ARE THEY TALKING ABOUT?!

Gauss accepts and we then see Netto hiding in a closet where Rockman tells him that he will disable the security so he can sneak around. The electric battle begins with Elecman and Magnetman rushing at eachother as we then cut to Rockman taking out the security Navis with his cutted buster shot.

I’m liking the lighting effects used in this episode.

Elecman attacks Magnetman with his Elec Sword, but the magnetic Navi blows him away. Magnetman attacks with his Mag balls, Elecman tries to avoid them but one of them eventually touches him causing the Count to get shocked by the battle machine.

So gay.

Anyway, the Count shuts him up after he sends a lightning rod to Elecman to protect him from Magnetman’s attacks and returning the damage to him.

That’s not a real chip, but I don’t care.

Gauss gets angry and Magnetman manhandles Elecman.

This battle is intense! I am personally rooting for Elecman and the Count. I don’t have anything against gay people, I just happen to dislike Gauss, and his Navi Magnetman is very vicious. You can see how Elecman struggles in the battle just for the Count. That is Navi loyalty at its finest!

Meanwhile, we go back to the island where one of Yaito’s maids tells her that their rescue crew has arrived, they can now go get Netto from Gauss’s blimp. Speacking of Netto, we cut to Rockman now in the Heat Guts style burning more security Navis to disable what I guess is a motion sensor.

I think this is the first time we see burn marks left by the Heat Guts attack, it is suppouse to be a flamethrower after all.

Back to the battle, Elecman and Magnetman launch their attacks at the same time. The collission of their attacks for some reason means that both Gauss and the Count get electricuted. During this, a spark runs wild and starts a tiny fire somewhere in the blimp.

Netto finally arrives at the room where they are having their Net Battle and spots Wily’s chip in front of their family picture.

Just wanted to brag my good timing with this shot where Netto sees the Count before hiding.

Magnetman and Elecman are both tired, the fire in the airship starts to expand, the Navis decide to take the other one down with their fists resulting in a double log-out and both operators getting electricuted and falling over.

On the floor, they both talk about the past. Gauss even admits that their mother and him were worried about the Count before she passed away.

This tender conversation is interrupted by an explotion caused by the growing fire, but there is another surprise for them, Netto attempting to sneak away with the Wily chip behind their backs.

You know, Netto, you could’ve taken advantage of the explotion to run away without them realizing it.

Netto runs away and plugs out Rockman who was still burning security Navis in the cyberworld with Gauss and Count Elec right behind him.

Rockman deleting the security might have weakend the airships emergency protocals in case of a fire...Wooops. Either that or Gauss’s blimp was poorly designed.

Netto tries to escape from them by running to the roof only to be stopped by the fire.

.........

Only in the original version can you find an openly gay Gauss.

Netto threatens them by throwing the chip overboard, but another explotion causes him to lose balance.

The villains saved the hero?

Of course they did it because they thought he still had the chip. Luckily for Netto, he grabs on to a lose part of the blimp slowly tearing its side and leaving him hanging from it.

Gauss and Count Elec once again start to fight over the chip, and once again an explotion occures making them fall over with the chip sliding pass between them and finally falling off the ship.

LOL, there goes Wily’s brain.

The blimp is slowly falling with Netto getting closer to the water until something saves him from drowning or freezing to death.

Oh no, its the return of the Yaito Mako!

Netto is saved and the blimp ends up crashing into an iceberg while our heroes just watch the bad guys die.

Oh the Elec-Manity! Or Magnet-Manity? o-o

After this we see the Ex-WWW on a boat in front of the iceberg believing that their dear friend died. Of course this isn’t the case because the camera quickly shifts to the Count and Gauss bickering on a block of ice, ending the episode with both of them sneezing.

What do I think?

The beginning was pretty dumb. Netto and friends just trying to stop the Ex-WWW like it was their responsability. I mean, granted, Rockman is the hero that stops their evil plans, but they never got directly involve before. Fighting against the WWW Navis was because they were causing problems to them and the rest of the city, but their operators don’t stand a chance against a group of adults in real life. The cyberworld is where Rockman is superior and is able to stop them, that’s the Battle Network formula, giving kids an advantage over adults.

The best and most important part of the episode was the revelation of Gauss and Count Elec being brothers and the Net Battle between their Navis. If you saw the anime before playing the games like me, this was something we were waiting for after seeing the Count’s family picture in episode 30. The game was pretty vague about this, how were we suppoused to know that the Cout’s real name was Jack? They are never seen interacting with eachother in the games, Gauss’s introduction was the only time where this was mentioned. During the plane hijacking in BN2, Gauss reveals that he came from a very poor family and that his brother Jack was taken in by a wealthy family, making him bitter towards humanity and the reason why he joins Gospel. Here, they both come from a rich family but chose different paths, specially since the Count ran away from home a long time ago.

The reason why there was a mod code in Wily’s video was part of their publicity for BN3, by adding secret codes for the game in the anime. It is very plausible that we will see more secret codes hiding in some of the future episode.

#Rockman exe #MegaMan NT Warrior #megaman battle network #anime #dub vs sub #my reviews #ick25

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cutegirlmayra · 7 years

Note

For the prompt meme could I request some jet x wave for number 9?~ (These prompts have been AMAZING so far by the way!!!! ^^)

Thank yous~ =w=

I HAVE BEEN DYING TO WRITE THIS.

Prompt:

Wave leaned a knee against her table as she wore protective shades, drilling a a saw into some airgear before putting the pulling the device off and setting it down.

She flipped her duo hair pieces while taking the shades off, and looked over her work. “You’re still not nearly as fast as I want you… but you’ll do.” she turned away and placed her glasses down, pulling out a journal of sorts and starting to write her next plans for improvements, sizes, mathematics to do so correctly, the works.

She put a hand up against her forehead, and didn’t even notice the peeking eyes behind the door.

“Ohh… ho-ho. You really don’t know how good you look with sparks, do you?”

Making odd noises, Storm walked by to see Jet peeking through the door slit, wiggling his fingers before Storm bonked him on the head.

“What’cha doin’ boss? Wave told me to do that if I saw you making creepy noises outside the door again.” he was holding a box in his other hand, but it wasn’t that heavy for him to carry in both hands, so he just casually lifted it over his shoulder and set it there.

“Ouch!” Jet threw his arms over his head, before glaring up at Storm. “Watch it! I can do as I please!”

“What’s going on out there?”

He flinched as Wave stepped out, sweat dripping down as she walked out and grabbed a towel, wiping some oil off her face while she was at it. “You two fighting again?”

Jet chuckled lightly, before nudging Storm on the arm and pulling his head down, seeing he was about to confess all.

“Oh, you know-” he yanked him further down to noogie his head. “Just us boys, messin’ around! heh-heh.” he awkwardly smiled.

She raised an eyebrow, before walking off. “Fine. But do it somewhere else. You’re roughhousing could knock me off balance and then both your gears could get trashed.” she warned, and swayed her hips as she walked down the hallway.

Jet leeeeeaned around the corner, smiling like an idiot.

She smirked, looking back out of the corner of her eyes.

She knew what he was doing…

She moved on, letting out a ‘hmph’ before turning the corner, out of sight.

Jet reeled Storms head towards him, holding it in both hands. “What you were you tryin’ to do!? Rat me out of my passtimes!?” he then released his head by throwing it out, and walked towards the corner, looking around it before fitting himself up.

“This is it, Storm. The day a boy becomes a man. The day where all races speed to that blessed finish line~ I’ll hit her with the ol’smoulder and chat her up again before- PA-CAW!” he pushed back his top feathers, rubbed his fingers together, pumped himself up, and stuck out his chest before swaying his arms out into a woman’s figure and letting out a hawk’s cry.

“Dahh… I don’t get it.” Storm put a finger up to his beak.

His head was flung down again, this time, he gripped his amulets and pulled those down. “You idiot! I’m gonna finally get Wave to admit she’s has the hots for me since the day we met! Haha!” he nudged a thumb back to gesture to her, then let the lovable lug go.

He patted his head, shaking his head. “Oh, Storm, good buddy, good mate… you may never understand…” he adjusted his gloves and set his glasses on straight, smirking. “She won’t know what hit her! Ha!”

“B-but… if you mean…” Storm started to put two and two together, as Jet annoyingly looked up at him, raising an eyebrow as if questioning if he really got it or not.

“B-but Boss! Last time she tired to flirt with you! And you said-”

-COMMENCE PAINFUL FLASHBACK-

“You!? You’d be the last girl on earth I’d ever want!” he stepped towards Wave and swished an arm out in front of her, pushing her back. “Heh, you might as well love a dream~” he then turned around, being arrogant, and fanned her idea away. “I’m deeply flattered Wave, but I must say, I thought you’d have a little more tact than that-”

His eyes widened as his confident fled when the screen turned white.

-ENDING PAINFUL REMINDER-

Jet rubbed his cheek, little chibi tear marks on the side of his face.

“She really nailed you into next thursday, Boss… are you sure you want to try and hurt her feelings again?”

Jet shook his head, looking determined. “That was years ago! I’ve changed my mind! I can do that, can’t I!? It’s my head!” he gestured his arms out, before pointing to his forehead, and then dropping his arms down as he kicked the ground a little in his slowly swaying steps. “Ugh… she swore she’d never love me again… I don’t even know if I stand a chance now… but one thing’s certain!”

He rose his head, turning around confidently and putting his hands to his hips.

“I’m the fastest thing alive! and I always win the prize!”

He then took off down the hallway. “Take the day off, Storm! This chick’s mine!”

“DAhhh… chick? Like… cheep, cheep?” Storm patted his hands out, thinking of baby birds. “Ahh… I don’t get it boss. But good luck!” he threw his thumbs up, trying to encourage, but then shook his head and started out the other way.

He put a hand to his head, “Gee, I hope she doesn’t electrocute him this time…”

Wave had washed up and shook off the water from her face, and then started to head deeper into the blimp to her second workshop, the one where she held all the gear upgrades and gadgets.

The last place was in was mostly for touch-ups and improvements. Speedy cleanups of things she needed to get done. But down here? Heh. This was her where her real work began…

She turned on the lights and they flickered in a row like a factory.

She picked up a gear and looked at the ones that lined the wall, and smiled, proudly.

There was a whistle, and her smile faded as she turned to raise an eyebrow at Jet, leaning at the large door’s frame, and knocking on it.

“Hello,…” he smirked. “Wave~” he motioned his hand like an ocean current. He then tried to swagger over to her, as she just saw right through him, and shook her head, lowering her eyelids.

“Did you get that off a cereal box?”

He flinched, growing anger before trying to laugh it off, flicking his nose with his hand. “Haha.. ha.. good one.” he leaned up against the table, scooting closer to try and get her attention as she tore a piece off the gear on the table, holding it to the light to examine it further.

“How have you…uh… been?” he looked her up and down, and had his arm on the table, holding his head up.

He was trying so hard.

“Trying to remember why I even let you try.” she turned away, and he slipped from the table, grabbing the edge to keep him upright.

“Heh-heh-heh…” he sweat dropped, realizing she was still upset over last time.

She held her head up high, giving him an annoyed glare back, before continuing her work somewhere else in the room.

He frowned, and snapped his fingers, before rubbing them up under his beak, and looking around.

He saw something that caught his eye, and smirked, lowering his eyelids and bouncing his eyebrows to the camera as he sped off to go get it.

“Why did I have to open my big mouth?” She cursed herself, looking up and rolling her eyes, getting back to her work as he came over, holding a toolbox and wearing a tool belt, trying to pose.

“Need a… handyman?” he posed.

She gave him one look, and then took a paperclip, holding it up.

She walked over to him, looking seductive, as she bit the bottom part down, making him a little excited before placing the point of it to his belt.

She pushed the tiniest button on it and the whole thing slid off.

She raised her smile up to show him what a fool he was, and then turned away.

“Eh-heh-heh… hey, at least you don’t need to worry about the pants~” Jet shrugged his hands out, as she flinched.

She turned with anger marks all over her head.

“Get out.”

“Wave, wait!” He ran over to her secondary table, then sat on it and held up a screwdriver.

“If you make a dirty joke with that, I’ll smash your head so hard against this table you won’t remember your own name.”

She said that so calmly as she pulled out blueprints that his widened…

He knew she wasn’t lying…

His hand slowly tilted and he dropped the object, before racing back to the tool box.

He took a crowbar to hook her beak and turn it towards him.

“I think we may have gotten off on the wrong start… you know? Where we both kinda… hehheh, got electrocuted?” he tried to seem charming.

She looked so unamused.

He nervously chuckled, pulling on his tuff of fluff and turning his head, sweating.

She pushed him away and moved to the center of the room. “What I can’t seem to understand is how you think you can just waltz in here and act like nothing ever happened!?” She folded her arms, clearly upset. “What suddenly changed your mind?” she glanced behind her, raising her eyebrow. “I mean, I’ve always had this face and body.” she then fully about-faced and gestured to herself. “So it can’t be all looks.”

He nodded, deep in his own self. “Ye-yeah…” his tongue hung out, before seeing her death glare and quickly snapping out of it. “Ehem! I mean, you have always looked rather… fine.” he looked away, trying to play it off as he kept a hand over his clearly smiling face.

“Then what of it?” She almost growled out. “I haven’t gotten any younger.”

“No… maybe not..” he started to walk over to her.

“And you clearly haven’t changed.” she gestured to him, but there was a different look in his eyes then, as he approached more readily, without fear.

“I know…”

The sudden shift in his attitude made her blink her eyes, and start moving back.

“Y-Yo..You haven’t changedorkeptyourselfinanywaylikeagentlemenoreventriedtoseemkind-.” she tried to stay mad, until turning nervous and speaking so fast that soon she just couldn’t be understood. Like a fast-forward button on your VCRs.

He kept the expression, walking until placing both hands on the wall, enclosing her in him.

“…You.. You’re acting… changed.” she allowed herself to lean against the wall.

“…Wave, baby.” he smirked. “I should have never resisted ya.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever picked up.” He moved his arms down to her sides, “And quite frankly, the greatest treasure I’ve ever acquired.” he went in for the kiss…

She held a hand up, and he opened his eyes.

“…Honestly, I wasn’t expecting that.” he admitted.

“You probably weren’t expecting this either.”

WHAM!

“YYYEEEEOOOOWWW!!!!”

Storm came back home from the movies, and looked around, seeing Jet with bandages and ice packs all over his body, growing and looking ticked off.

“Uhh… Boss?” Storm peeked his head and beak around the corner.

“GET OUT!!” Jet threw some ice packs at him, and then whinced at the pain from moving. “WAAVVEE!!!” he smashed his hand on the table multiple times.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Geez.” she walked in with more wet rags and ice packs. “Who was I to know that jamming your head into the wall would have all those gears fall simultaneously onto your body?” She placed the objects down and folded her arms.

“Cause you’re a scientific wiz and know how to cause the worst case scenario to happen!” He hollered up at her, furious. “It’s statistics! And not even I could have sabotaged myself that well!”

Her eyes perked up, as if turned on by that.

“Really?~” she leaned on the table.

“Yeah! And you know whaaa….” he stopped shouting, his beak dropping as she put her finger into the water, and then her mouth.

“Care to tell how else I differ from in being smart and pretty?” she got up and lifted her arms to his face, as he seemed to almost melt by the touch.

Suddenly seeing Storm, he turned and hollered out while shaking a fist towards him, “I THOUGHT I GAVE YOU THE NIGHT OFF!”

“I-It was the day and-”

“SCRAM!” the two stated in equal harshness, as Storm freaked out, terrified of their scary looks, and raced back for the blimp’s exit, booking it.

“I’ll never understand love!” he cried out, grabbing his gear and taking off for the city again.

(I can’t help but feel like these two will eventually be super into each other, but it would be a… dangerous… relationship, lol!)

#jetxwave #jet the hawk #wave the swallow #babylon rogues #sonic #sonic prompt #prompt meme

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hystericalcherries · 7 years

Text

Spring Cleaning

This is part of my Camp Kwami series. Check out the rest here!

Nino walks in one morning looking ragged as he slumps in the seat next to Adrien.

The blonde takes one looks at him and asks, “What’s wrong? You look terrible.”

Alix spears a sausage on her fork. “Yeah, you look like you just crawled out of a grave.”

There’s a low groan just before the DJ unceremoniously drops his head onto the table, forehead making a impressive thud when it meets wood. Adrien winces sympathetically and offers a light clap of the shoulder, it turning into a comforting rub and a soft offer of food when his best friend groans louder.

“Oh, yeah,” Alya agrees sympathetically, “I spent all yesterday afternoon cleaning up too.”

Marinette finally looks from her meal, brows furrowed. “Cleaning up?”

Her best friend sends her a look, borderline on surprise and… pity? “Yeah, cleaning up. You know, for the cabin inspection- the one that's, you know, today.”

Nino finally extracts his face from the wood and absently reaches across the table and snatches a muffin from her plate. “Oh man, that's right- I forgot you got the art cabin, Marinette. It must have totally tanked trying to clean that mess up. How'd you even manage, anyway?”

“I don't-” she stops before she has a chance to start, her mind putting one and two together in record time.

Her friends undoubtedly see the exact minute when realization hits, her face opening up like one of Margot and Camille’s books. She claps her hands on her cheeks and abruptly stands, silverware shaking as she nearly knocks the entire table over. But Marinette is far from noticing, head whipping to the small table where her kids sit, already done eating and chatting among themselves, and to the clock bolted to the wall in rapid succession.

“The inspection- oh no, I totally forgot!”

Then she is flying, at her cabin’s table and leaning over them to urge them up and back to the cabin. They sense her urgency and quickly scramble to clean up their table, allowing her to usher them out of the mess hall with frantic hands and tripping feet.

When they finally get to the cabin Marinette wants to scream.

It looks like a disaster zone, taped off and full of hazard signs.

There is glitter everywhere and not a thing in its place; books and loose papers cover the floor, bed sheets still stretched in their makeshift fort, paint splattered across a few windows, and articles of clothing draped across every surface.

Before she has time to process her hopeless despair, her mouth opens and she's rattling off orders like a drill sergeant.

“Camille, you're in charge of making the beds. Liam and Nicholas, the windows have to be wiped- no paint or anything on them. Spotless.” The boys give her a salute, serious expressions on their chubby faces. “Margot- the books, they need to be off the floor and back in the bookshelf. Émilia, you and Milo get to organize the art supplies- crayons out of the sink and into their boxes.” Floorboards creak as the kids run to follow her directions. “Camille, you're on laundry duty- remember, anything that smells like dead fish goes in the basket. Léo, help her. Oh, and Victoire, you'll need to pick up all the excess trash.”

They all burst into action, following her orders as if their lives depended on it.

When the dreaded call comes from outside half an hour later Marinette nearly jumps out of her skin.

“Keep cleaning,” she whispers loudly, taking her time to walk the distance to the entrance. “We can't fail the inspection- we'll lose points if we do. I'll try to buy some time.”

There are calls of understanding from the kids, still running about like ants who've just had their hill squashed. Margot’s foot gets caught on a bed post and she trips, the pile of books in her hands crashing to the floor with a thud loud enough it has Marinette wincing. Léo quickly bends over and helps the girl to her feet, sorting out the mess by the time Marinette reaches the door. She edges the screen door open and slithers her way out of the tiny crack of space, breathless as she takes in her arbiters.

What she sees has her eyes popping out of their sockets.

The entirety of the camp is outside, following the counsellors and head appointees in a sort of procession. She all but groans because great, now everyone will have a front row seat to watch her fail spectacularly.

She spots Alya, at the front of the group, and sidles up next to her. With a quick look to the inspectors, who, thankfully, seem to still be processing the paperwork of the previous cabin, she leans in close and asks, “Um, why is everyone here? Isn't it just a regular inspection?”

Alya follows her lead and leans in until her head touches Marinette’s, stage whispering, “It's because of your little show in the mess hall- very eye catching, as per usual- and, well, everyone wanted to see if you'd make it in time. It's all very exciting.”

Blue eyes trail over the counsellors, pausing a second too long on a particular blond head and having to look away quickly in fear of turning to mush. She swallows nervously, voice contracting a squeaky quality, “Oh.”

“Ah, Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng, there you are.” The camp secretary, a woman with a neat bun and glasses, walks the three precise steps to the bottom of the stairs, clipboard in hand. “Let us begin the inspection of your cabin.”

The counsellor in question forces a smile, skipping a step to bar their way into the sure-to-still-be war ground. “Um, why don't we start outside? I mean, you've all seen the inside of these cabins- they're all the same and so boring. We could just glance around out here and wow, would you look at those flower beds- I don't get extra points for those, do I?”

The woman takes one look at the flowers, in full bloom and all but bursting out of the box they're rooted in, and says in a clipped tone, “No.”

Then, without further ado, the group steps past her and into the cabin. Marinette makes a surprised nose, something in between a squeal and a shriek, and runs after them. Excuses are already spilling from her lips, colorful in their exaggeration. “So, funny story! A rogue baboon found its way into the cabin last night and-”

But her words die when they meet air, because what in the world, this is not her cabin.

Firstly, it’s too clean. Secondly, it’s too clean.

Her kids stand in a line, posed in, what she assumes they individually believe to be, a respectable salute to the camp heads. All around them is a shocking scene- beds made, suitcases tucked neatly under bunks, dressers scrubbed, and mountains of glitter mysteriously banished to some other realm. It’s not perfect- for there is still some melted crayons sticking to the lone table’s surface and army of pine cones standing guard at the foot of the backdoor- but, by all that is lucky in the world, it is to her.

“This place is a pigsty,” Chloé says, signifying the arrival of the other counselors, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she eyes the walls and the pictures decorating them. “It looks like a paintbrush got the flu and sneezed all over everything.”

Marinette ignores the girl’s words, harsh and semi truthful as they are, and instead looks to the proclaimed camp director.

M. Damocles is as unreadable as ever and she despairs, already imaging the punishment she'll receive for having the dirtiest cabin in all the world (probably a lifetime sentence to mess hall duty). Thick eyebrows looms over wide eyes, giving him a surprised look that is, seemingly, permanently edged into his face, as he silently takes in his surroundings, turning in a slow circle to better survey it all. Her body hunches into itself as she leans in, holding her breath.

Finally, he stops, straightening his jacket with a small harrumph. Leveling her with a stare, he states, “You pass, but only just.”

It's enough for her and the rest of Cabin Ladybug, and they erupt into instantaneous cheers.

The sound of joy is echoed by the many still lingering outside. The camp heads make their leave when the call is made, four more cabins still in need of their judgement, and leave them to their celebration.

Alya whoops and gives Marinette a side hug while simultaneously high fiving Nino. Chloé leaves with a huff, hands waving a fist pumping Kim out of her way; though no one can hear her snapping remarks, drowned as they are in the cheers.

Her kids are the loudest. Liam, Nicholas and David let out matching yells, deafening and animalistic in quality. Behind them, Margaret and Camille are hugging, nearly toppling over when Milo barrels into them in an effort to join. Léo flops onto a bed, slinking to the floor with an exhausted sigh, and sends Victoire, who claps her hands together happily, a victorious grin. Thomas wraps her left leg in a hug, vibrating with excitement and giggles.

“Congrats, Marinette.” She somehow hears Adrien over the triumphant screech Émilia sings to her right. A hand lands on her shoulder, the weight of it making her feel like she's floating.

Normally, she would smile and leave it at that, but she's feeling strong after this win. She was given the impossible and had pulled out on top- granted, it wasn't as impressive as defeating an Akuma, but the fire running through her body in the afterglow of battle is the same. It leaves her feeling lucky.

So, she surges forward and throws herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck in a hug. He stumbles for a moment, surprised, but the blimp is passed over with the light laugh that bursts out her mouth. Eventually his hands encircle her waist, squeezing, and an answering smile graces his lips.

She's never felt happier.

#ml drabbles #ml #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #MIRACULOUS: TALES OF LADYBUG AND CHAT NOIR #Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir #ladybug #cat noir #chat noir #adrinette #marinette cheng #adrien agreste #camp au #camp kwami #chomp chomp goes the raptor

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